Five Times John was Kidnapped
by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley
Summary: After Sherlock returns John finds himself being kidnapped far too regularly for his liking.


**Author's Note: **I can't believe I didn't think to write this before. Especially since out of the seven episodes that has been aired so far over the years John has been kidnapped in six of them. I have no doubt he will be kidnapped repeatedly in the next two. Some dialogue in this has come from Disney's new film Frozen.

**By the Bad Guy.**

John was on the verge of forgiving Sherlock…well sort of, he was going to yell at him some more, maybe punch him again, and _then_ forgive him, but being suddenly assaulted and then kidnapped in the middle of the street sort of ended that.

(By the way can he just mention how _bloody typical_ of London it is for _no one_ to notice that two men were pinning him down, drugging him, and then bundling him into a van?)

Next thing he knows he is tied up, shoved somewhere confining, and about to be set on fire – no not just about to be_, he actually was_!

Thank God for Sherlock!

Now he has been kidnapped plenty times before two years ago but he had never had to endure such a horrific event….hell even when _Moriarty_ had kidnapped him and strapped _a bomb_ on him, he had received better treatment!

Oh well, he can't hate his kidnappers too much, because despite the horror of it all though some good did come out of this kidnapping….he did give up his pride and went to see Sherlock.

(The actual forgiving, however, took a little longer.)

**By Mycroft.**

"I had hoped that the fact that I don't live with Sherlock anymore would stop this," John sighed as he sat down on the nice leather seat of Mycroft's over-expensive, massive, and totally over compensating car. "Surely you have better things to do than kidnap me?"

"You would think," Mycroft said primly, "but unfortunately Sherlock has become even more nuisance since his return and I am required to use extreme measures to reign him in."

"What sort of extreme measures?" John asked suspiciously.

Mycroft inhaled sharply. "How much would it take to make you leave your wife?"

"No."

"I am willing to bankrupt the country here."

"Definitely no."

"Very well," Mycroft sighed, "I tried the nice way, now I will have to exert force. Oh I do hate doing these things," he sighed again and John wondered if anyone other than Mycroft would be upset if he punched the fat, pompous git. "If you don't leave your wife, I will have to arrange a…_accident_ for her."

"_Hell no_!"

John had fortunately escaped his nutter kidnapper very quickly by taking advantage that there were too many traffic lights in London, and had barely got through the front door when his phone beeped.

_It's a bit late for Christmas and my birthday is nowhere near today – SH._

Confused, John replied immediately. _What the hell are you on about?!_

_Well I just assumed that you broke Mycroft's nose as a present for me – SH. _

**By Anderson.**

John groaned when he came to.

He groaned again when he realised he was tied to a chair, he most definitely had a concussion, and there was some bearded psycho pointing a gun at him. "Oh what now?!" he cried out. "I'm not on a case, you definitely don't look like Mycroft, and unless Sherlock hasn't fully gotten rid of Moriarty's network, there is no one out to get me…this week," he tacked on reluctantly.

You would think this would be enough to make him seek out a nice, normal, ordinary life where absolutely no kidnapping happens….sadly you would be mistaken. He was obviously insane.

"I want to know!" the madman shouted.

"Know what?" John asked exasperated.

"How he did it!"

"How who did what?"

"Don't play coy with me, John Watson," the man shrieked rather….well high pitched and girly. "I know you're Sherlock Holmes' lover -" _Oh for fuck sake_! How many times must he repeat himself? _**HE WAS NOT GAY**_! Never has been, never will be, and certainly not for Sherlock. You would think that the fact he was happily married to a lovely woman would end all of this but _nooooooooo_ "- and there's nothing he doesn't share with you," obviously this madman really didn't know Sherlock or he would know John was absolutely clueless about Sherlock faking his death. "So tell me! How did he fake his death?"

"I don't know," John shrugged….well as much as he could shrug when he's tied to a chair. "I never bothered to find out."

"_How can you not want to know?!"_

Before John could reply, the door was broken down, and the police with Sherlock leading them appeared in a very heroic fashion. "Philip Anderson," Lestrade said authoritatively, wait what? Did John just get kidnapped by _fucking Anderson_ of all people?! "I am arresting you for the kidnapping of one person, John Watson, you may remain silent…"

John ignored the rest as Sherlock moved swiftly to his rescue and cut the ropes off of him. Oh thank God! To be able to move his arms again!

"Really, John? Really?" Sherlock sneered. "You were stupid enough to get kidnapped by this idiot?"

"Yeah I know," John moaned in agreement, "I'm really ashamed too."

**By Sherlock.**

"Wow…Mycroft wasn't kidding you really do make this too easy."

John woke up to Sherlock's deep baritone voice saying those exact words, with his usual tone of disdain and amusement. At first he had thought nothing of it, after all it was a normal occurrence almost three years ago, and then he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to wake up to Mary's sweet voice not Sherlock's.

He shot up to find he was in his old bed at 221B Baker Street, and not in his warm, cosy, flower-smelling bed in his flat with Mary.

"_What the hell_?" he yelled.

"Oh good," Sherlock said from the end of the bed, "you're up, you can make breakfast then, but first you have to go to the shops, we've run out of milk."

"_Sherlock_!"

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "Yes, John?" he said far too calmly for John's nerves.

"I'm married."

"I know."

"And I don't live here."

"I know."

"So why the hell am I in my old bed without my wife?"

"Oh finally, you get to the point," Sherlock rolled his eyes. John started to wonder if this is how he used to make Donovan and Anderson feel, and if so, no wonder they helped ruin his life, and, in Anderson's case, go totally insane. "Well, Mycroft dared me to kidnap you-"

"He _what?_!" John interrupted furiously. "And you went through with it? What happened to being my friend?"

"Oh don't be so wounded, John," Sherlock rolled his eyes again, obviously irritated with John's apparent stupidity. It was enough to make John want to punch his smug face in. "You make it far too easy for anyone to kidnap you. So I decided to up the ante and prove to Mycroft what he has done has been incredibly unimpressive, and therefore abducted you out of your bed and used a cab to get home. No one thought it was suspicious and therefore the police were not called in. a remarkable success if you ask me."

"The only reason the police interrupted one of Mycroft's kidnappings that one time, was because _you _called them," John pointed out angrily, "and how the hell did you get in and out of my flat without my wife noticing?"

"Oh she woke up," Sherlock said cheerfully, "almost hit me with a cricket bat she keeps under the bed but when she realised it was me she stopped, and then encouraged me to kidnap you. Apparently she wants to have a girl's night in with some old friends and you sulking ruins everything."

"_I don't sulk_!"

"Her words, not mine," Sherlock shrugged, "and may I say that for a soldier you are a pathetically deep sleeper. I am very disappointed in you, John."

"I had to live with you," John snarled, "if I wanted any sleep at all without your fucking violin waking me up, or the experiments, or you fighting some assassins you stupidly invited over, then I had to learn to be a deep sleeper."

"Whatever," Sherlock said, clearly bored now, "I have an experiment in the oven that needs tending to." He jumped off and headed to the door when he suddenly paused and turned to face John. "And don't forget, we need milk."

Unfortunately he ducked before John's old alarm clock could hit his face.

**By Fangirls**

John and Sherlock had just left a crime scene when they were suddenly ambushed by a group of obviously insane teenage girls. Before either of them could act they were gagged, blindfolded tied up, and quickly bundled into a van.

At this point John was sort of worried that he had been kidnapped by a BDSM sex club….yes it has happened before, yes it was totally Sherlock's fault, and no, Scotland Yard has not let them live it down yet.

Neither has Mycroft.

When their blindfolds were taken off John was astounded and, quite frankly, terrified to find himself in some sort of shrine dedicated to not only Sherlock but himself as well.

"Hold on," one girl, a young pretty brunette who couldn't be older than fourteen said, as she moved her arms round John's neck, and immediately tied something round said neck. She then also took his gag off, thank God! "That's better, much smarter. You look perfect."

"Err…thank you," John said uncomfortably.

The girl beamed at him. "You're welcome. Come along!" she very gently tugged him out of the creepy shrine, down the corridor, and into a large, drafty room, where Sherlock stood at the bottom with about four guards on him. From the distance John could work out that Sherlock had a bowtie forced on his neck, and a rose tucked into his breast pocket, and he then wondered if that's what he was wearing as well. The whole room was crowded with various females and even a few boys. There didn't seem to be a chance for him to escape though he had faith that Sherlock had a plan.

Finally he was stood beside Sherlock and the head fangirl, he assumed she was the boss since she looked much older, wore more sensible clothes, and had quite a stern look on her face, spoke up. "Do you, John Hamish Watson take Sherlock Holmes to be your lawfully wedded-?"

"_What_?!" John shrieked.

The fangirl gave him a withering look. "You're getting married," she said as if he was an idiot.

"I'm already married!" John protested.

"We're working on that," the fangirl shrugged. Oh God what have they done to poor Mary? Not something homicidal, or harmful, or…well anything that was going to result in him being a single man. "Besides that wasn't a true wedding."

"Err…yes it was," John argued, "legal and everything. I was there."

"But she isn't your one true love."

"Oh my God!" John exploded. "How many times do I have to tell you people? I am _**not**_ g-_Hmmph_!"

Yes, they gagged him again, and yes, Sherlock was most definitely laughing at him, but thankfully before the fangirls could go on with their illegal wedding ceremony the police burst in to the rescue.

Yes they took pictures and no they will not stop laughing whenever they see John now.

It was at this point John wondered why he wanted Sherlock back in the first place. He never got kidnapped this frequently when is life was Sherlock-less.


End file.
